Mean Kitty
by Kalira69
Summary: Speculation on or discussion of others' animal forms is a fairly common pastime, even on the Castle of Lions . . . and hey, their speculations were correct! . . .sort of. (Shapeshifter AU; Written for Sheith Month, Day 4) (Animals Inside series, #5)


Written for Day 4 of Sheith Month: Free Day. I used 'Shapeshifters' as my prompt. Pretty much canon 'verse only everyone (human, at least) has a second shape, some sort of animal.

Part of the Animal Inside series, and the first story written for it (before it accidentally became a series).

* * *

"Keith's probably a mean, skinny little cat. Like one of those strays that somehow comes through every mess they get into unscathed except for maybe a ripped ear, you know?" Lance said, wrinkling his nose with a half-smile.

Pidge frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, I could see that." she agreed, nodding. In fact- Yeah. She could really clearly picture that of Keith; remembering his rangy stride, the narrow-eyed glare he gave people he didn't like - or . . . everyone, a lot of the time - and the way he by turns avoided eye contact or was uncomfortably direct about it. Not to mention the dartingly quick, wary, relentless way he fought.

"What about Shiro?" Hunk asked, returning from the counter and pushing a fresh platter of snacks into the centre of the table. "I heard someone at the Garrison say he was a wolf? But that seems. . ."

"That's _ridiculous_." Lance protested, waving his hands. "Shiro isn't that kind of-"

"Shiro's a _dog_." Pidge said, rolling her eyes. "I haven't seen him shifted," she added when they both looked at her with surprise, "but my brother mentioned it once or twice. He's a dog," she paused for a moment, breath hitching, "like my dad. Not a _wolf_." She shook her head. "Really."

"Yeah, that's kind of mean." Lance said, frowning slightly at Hunk, and Pidge eyed him dubiously.

"I suppose so." Hunk said, ducking his head. He smiled at them. "My aunt's a rat." he offered. "I didn't mean it to be. . ." he trailed off.

Pidge smiled back, nodding understanding.

"My mother's a sea otter." Lance offered in turn. "She's a lot bigger than me. We all learned how to swim holding on to her in the water." He smiled, though his eyes had gone sad.

Pidge bumped her arm into his gently, because she'd actually known Lance long enough to know how to comfort him, and he took a deep breath, visibly shaking off his melancholy. He pulled on a grin as he looked down at her and bumped gently back.

Pidge nearly bumped into Lance just inside the doorway to the lounge. He'd stopped without warning, almost mid-step. "Hey, what are you doing? Lance!" She poked him as she stepped sideways and continued into the room, then-

"Holy _monkeys_!" Pidge yelped, jumping behind Hunk and peeking around his arm as he too stilled, with a low sound of surprise.

The great black cat before them cracked an eye open, its long tail twitching with an almost lazy curl. Pidge swallowed hard as she took in the stormy blue-grey of the single eye. Then she dropped her gaze to where Shiro was stretched out on the sunken couch just below, seemingly peacefully asleep.

"Keith?" Pidge asked in a higher pitch than she usually reached.

The cat - the _leopard_ \- lifted its head, looking at them, then yawned, showing off alarmingly huge fangs as his rounded ears tipped back and his face scrunched. He lowered his head and shook it lightly, then resumed watching them. The bright, blue-tinted light of the Castle glinted off the neat, barely-visible spots patterned in his thick, inky coat.

One huge paw extended, sliding off the ledge where he lay, and came to rest on Shiro's thigh. He shifted, still with the formlessness of sleep, and then hummed contentedly, relaxing further.

"Keith." Pidge said again, more certain now, even as she heard Lance muttering Keith's name and some moody-sounding Spanish behind her. Besides, how would a non-shifter panther _get_ on the Castle of Lions? A panther clearly native to Earth, no less, not some alien creature vaguely similar in appearance, and they hadn't even set down anywhere or had anyone else on board for almost two weeks. . .

The panther cocked an ear at her, looking somehow amused, and Pidge edged out from behind Hunk, who grabbed for her but didn't try to pull her back. Keith wasn't likely to pounce on her and rip her throat out generally, she wasn't exactly afraid he would suddenly do it _now_ simply because his shape had shifted, even if he would be alarmingly capable of it like this.

Most people Pidge knew had _small_ forms. Relatively harmless. Most people in _general_ had small forms. Her brother was a fox. Lance was an otter. Her mother was a colourful parrot a little smaller than Pidge's own form. Hunk was one of the biggest she had seen before, a solid badger. One of their instructors at the Garrison had been a falcon, which had been more than a little terrifying when Pidge first met her, coming in for a landing over one of the hangars only to find the larger, predatory bird winging in almost on her tailfeathers.

Pidge had never seen someone with the form of a big cat in person before; they were far from common, at least outside of fiction.

Keith opened his mouth and yowled, whiskers twitching. He rose to his paws with a fluid rolling movement and leapt lightly over Shiro down to the floor, twisting as he did so to land facing Shiro. He yowled again, putting his muzzle up and leaning close.

Shiro stirred again. "Keith?" he mumbled, one hand reaching out. Keith pushed his muzzle into Shiro's open palm, and he curled his fingers, digging into Keith's coat. He dropped his hand and rolled off the couch, blurring as he did so until-

Pidge's eyes widened. Dog. Yes. Dog, like dad, but _not_ like dad, who was a little smaller than their pet dog back home. Shiro stretched and rose to his full height and he stood even taller than Keith's slinking, powerful frame. His ears pricked forwards and his plume of a tail wagged slightly. He wasn't a wolf, but Pidge could see why someone would mistake him for one.

Keith swiped playfully at him, not showing claws, then leapt back up over the couch onto the main level of the floor in one surge of motion. Shiro followed without hesitation, bounding to the seat of the couch, then taking a second jump up to the floor, chasing after Keith, who had paused, looking over his shoulder, to wait.

Shiro snapped playfully at Keith's tail in a flash of fangs before coming up alongside him with a gentle press against his shoulder. Keith butted his head against Shiro's muzzle, sliding down along his jaw and neck, then moved off again. The pair of large predators trotted out of the room by the opposite door shoulder to shoulder without so much as a glance back.

" _What?_ " Lance cried finally, a full minute or more after the last glimpse of an inky black tail had disappeared.

"Skinny, mean cat." Pidge said faintly, barely restraining a burble of laughter that might be partly down to shock. "Keith's a mean kitty all right! A panther? _Seriously?_ "

* * *

As their speculation probably (hopefully) hints, there's some stereotyping and discrimination based on the animal form a person has in this world, though it's frowned upon now.

It was not noted by name in the story, but Pidge is a Eurasian magpie.

There will be at least two more pieces of this series posted during Sheith Month.


End file.
